


yours for the taking

by amlev



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: F/F, Merry Pitchmas Gift Exchange 2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-27 09:30:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17159522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amlev/pseuds/amlev
Summary: The Bellas take a trip up to the Beale family cabin. Drinking games and holiday traditions can make fools of us all.





	yours for the taking

**Author's Note:**

> Written for heated-mess.tumblr.com for Pitchmas 2018 :)

The car door opens into the snowbank with a  _ crunch _ . 

 

The Beale family cabin is nestled in the snow up on the hill before them. Beca tugs at the door to dislodge it from the chunk of ice it was lodged in and smiles up at the house. They flew in from Atlanta right after Flo had finished her last exam and she couldn’t wait to get her vacation started (away from the hustle and bustle of flying home to see her mom’s entire side of the family). They'd be spending about a week at this cabin up in Vermont, skiing and enjoying the snow.

 

The Bellas rush forward with their bags, chatting eagerly about sleeping arrangements and plans for the week. Hanging back a bit, Beca shoulders her duffel bag and lets another smile overtake her features. The house is gorgeous and the thick layer of snow decorating the roof and porch makes it even more picturesque. It looks straight out of a Christmas movie (she assumes; she admitted last week she’d seen maybe half of one in her life, so Chloe pinned her down and tickled her until she caved and agreed to watch at least one on the trip). 

 

The scene before her is so pretty and inviting that it almost tamps down on the nervous energy that generally consumes Beca lately whenever Chloe is near, replacing her anxiety with eager anticipation. It’s the calmest she’s been since last weekend’s Treble Christmas Bonanza. Almost. 

 

She hears the trunk of the car slam shut and then two quick beeps of a lock. 

 

“You excited?”

 

Chloe walks up and stops when she’s shoulder to shoulder with Beca, nudging her slightly with a grin. Beca blushes a little and smiles with her mouth closed, trying to hide her equally large grin to no avail. The nervous energy is back, twisting hot in her stomach in a way that’s exhilarating and scary and not entirely unwelcome. She focuses on answering Chloe. 

 

“Yeah, I am. I grew up with pretty mild winters. I’ve never really seen this much snow at once, so this is…”

 

In her peripheral vision, she sees Chloe turn to look at her, feels her gaze sweep over her features. Funny how just Chloe’s stare sends heat through her body despite the wind and chill. 

 

“It’s what?”

 

_ Incredible, romantic, awe-inspiring, butterfly-inducing - _

 

So she turns and locks eyes with Chloe, her expression open and genuine.

 

“This is perfect.”

 

And stops trying to hide her giant smile.

 

Chloe beams right back at her and reaches for Beca’s gloved hand. Beca’s heart does a funny little jump.

 

“Isn’t it magical? C’mon, let’s go inside! We have to sleep two to a bed, let’s put your bags in my room.”

 

She tugs on a stunned Beca’s hand, guiding her to the front steps. 

 

\----------

 

It’s somehow even more magical indoors; the roaring fireplace, the lights and decorations they put up during the day, the cozy blankets. Beca sips her mulled wine, feeling content, her limbs heavy and her lips tingly and numb. 

 

Amy cracked open a bottle of wine she’d seemingly pulled from nowhere as soon as Beca entered the living room, so they’d all been slowly drinking for a few hours now while decorating, unpacking, and singing along to Michael Buble. 

 

The Bellas were all crowded around the fireplace, scattered around on couches, armchairs, and huddled in blankets on the floor. Beca tucks her knees up to her chest in the armchair she’s occupying and rests her chin on them, enjoying the chatter of the girls around her. 

 

Chloe finishes putting the last of the food in the fridge and comes back into the living room to settle on the floor in front of Beca’s armchair, leaning back to rest against it.

 

Flo catches sight of this with a raised eyebrow. She nudges Amy beside her until she notices too and grins. 

 

“Alright pitches, how have we not played truth or dare yet? Kick us off, shortstack, and don’t hold back!” She paused dramatically and gestured with her index finger in warning. “But I won’t answer anything about my boyfriends, the Hemsworths.”

 

Beca shoots Flo a death glare. She must’ve told Amy what she saw at the Treble party. 

 

She gets her revenge by daring Amy to drink a nasty concoction of peppermint hot chocolate and sauces from the fridge, which Amy downs in one and bellows “TAKE THAT, SANTA” with gusto. 

 

The game continues. Beca avoids all eye contact with Flo and Amy, staring into the dregs of her mulled wine with feigned curiosity until Flo’s words make her glance up sharply.

“Beca. Truth or dare.”

 

“Truth,” Beca blurts immediately, not wanting to know what she has in mind for the alternative.

 

Flo doesn’t miss a beat. “Have you ever kissed one of the Bellas?”

 

Beca parries back quickly. “Yeah, I kissed Cynthia Rose in freshman year during this exact game, thanks for that, Amy.” 

 

Flo looks a little taken aback, not knowing Beca had a backup answer to the one she was fishing for. 

 

“Ugh, BORING,” Amy interjects. “Truth or dare, Chloe!” 

 

Beca opens her mouth to assert that it’s  _ her turn _ , but Chloe answers Amy first.

 

“Truth.”

 

“Have you tried sex while high, and did he keep it up?” 

 

Beca rolls her eyes at Amy’s antics. 

 

“I have, and she didn’t have that problem.”

 

The Bellas immediately whoop and holler, with Amy being the loudest and Cynthia Rose chiming in with “That’s my girl!” and clapping Chloe on the back.

 

Beca splutters and chokes on air, feeling like her throat is closing up, like the mulled wine is lurching up in her stomach. Chloe whips around from her spot on the floor, concerned, placing a comforting hand on Beca’s knee. She opens her mouth to speak and Beca’s nerves skyrocket; she doesn’t want to know what Chloe’s going to say this time, she can really only take so much -

 

She’s saved by the power cutting out, pitching the room into darkness and causing a few of the girls to scream. 

 

So instead what she hears Chloe shakily say is: “Beca, will you come downstairs with me to find the circuit breakers?”

 

Shit. 

 

\----------

  
  


The door to the basement is unassuming, but Chloe’s staring at the doorknob like it’s going to bite her.

 

Beca bites back her smile at the normally unflappable Chloe being afraid of the basement.

 

“Are there ghosts I should know about?”

 

Chloe furrows her brow and chews on her lip. 

 

“Maybe? My brother and cousins locked me in there one time as a child because they wanted to play N64… They forgot about me for a few hours.” 

 

Beca can’t help her laugh and Chloe pouts dramatically before grinning back and grabbing Beca’s hand. Beca looks down at their interlaced fingers as her insides scream at Chloe’s warm touch. 

 

“N64, eh? Let’s go conquer your dungeon, Link.”

 

She winces as soon as she says it, but Chloe thankfully says nothing.

 

They make their way down the stairs, Chloe squeezing Beca’s hand with one of hers and hanging onto the bannister with the other. 

 

Beca lights the way with her phone flashlight, sweeping the beam across the concrete floor so they don’t trip. 

 

The nervousness is back in her throat again. The muffled sounds of the girls from upstairs and the relative quiet surrounding her now sounds just like the din of the partygoers at the Treble’s house last weekend, just background noise for when Chloe had caught her under the mistletoe. 

 

They’d found themselves in the kitchen together, Chloe getting more drinks for herself and Flo and Beca looking for a pitcher of water. Chloe had stumbled a little, barely catching herself on the counter, leaning back heavily with Beca gripping her elbow for stability. 

 

“That was a close one. Dare I say a  _ Chlo-se one _ ,” Beca looked at Chloe expectantly and shot her finger guns. 

 

Chloe ignored her pun and tipped her head up at the ceiling above the counter. 

 

“That’s not all that’s close,” Chloe whispered, and Beca was suddenly acutely aware of what they were standing under when Chloe leaned up to place a quick, warm kiss on Beca’s tingly, numb, wine-drunk lips. Not super long, but not short either. Maybe about 3-4 seconds. Not that Beca had overanalyzed it, or anything. They’d pulled apart, and Beca locked eyes with Flo in the doorway who had clearly come looking for Chloe and hurried away.

 

Beca had since vetoed mistletoe for this particular holiday trip to the cabin. And every brush of their hands, every time Chloe hugged her or sat too close, Beca was forcibly reminded of the kiss. As if she’d stopped thinking about it to begin with.

 

But the dark quiet of the basement enveloped her, made her feel safer in contrast to the fear Chloe had expressed. She could turn around and barely see Chloe’s annoyingly blue eyes. The darkness made Beca bolder, like she could say anything and not have to deal with Chloe’s intense answering gaze.

 

Besides, Chloe could use a distraction from her basement fear.

 

Beca barely heard Chloe starting to say something about the additional firewood in the corner before she stopped suddenly, her mind resolute. 

 

“Chloe, what was that-”  _ Mind-numbingly perfect kiss. _ “- that thing last week?” she asked, her determined words pushing past the lump in her throat. “Was it more than just mistletoe?”

 

Silence from Chloe, making Beca’s heart thump faster. “Or did I read too far into this? Cuz I think I like you. Like, like-like you,” she finishes lamely.   
  
Chloe laughs at the shift in tone, and squeezes Beca’s hand. “You didn’t read too far into it, Bec. But do you like-like-like me, too?”   
  
Beca winces but it spreads into a slow smile. She falls back on her classic teases: “You’re a weirdo.”

 

“Yeah, but I’m your weirdo,” Chloe replies softly. 

 

Beca almost sobers up at that.

 

Chloe frowns suddenly and reaches out for Beca’s hand. 

 

“Hey,” she murmurs softly, running her thumb over Beca’s knuckles. “Did I say something wrong?”

 

Beca opens and closes her mouth, the alcohol simultaneously loosening her tongue and tying it up in knots to match the shapes twisting nervously in her stomach. She thinks about the soft press of Chloe’s lips, the way her hips had fit snugly against Beca’s, how her arm had wrapped around Beca’s back. About how she wants more.

 

“No, it’s not that -” 

 

A loud shattering noise from upstairs startles them both and Beca immediately drops Chloe’s hand. 

 

Chloe sighs at the interruption, feeling the moment dissipate immediately. The unresolved tension rises again inside Beca, making her clench and unclench her fist nervously.

 

“Let’s go survey the damage.” 

 

They almost forget to flip the circuit breakers.

 

\----------

 

The extra wood from downstairs crackles merrily in the fireplace, the power back on and the girls on their next round of wine.

 

Amy shouts across the room: “What took so long? Did you guys do the horizontal tango down there?”

 

“That’s right, you know how much mold turns me on,” Beca counters, her cheeks flushing. 

 

Chloe blushes at the mere thought.

 

\----------

 

They lie together in Chloe’s bed, the darkness once again elevating a tipsy Beca’s courage. 

 

“Chloe,” Beca starts tentatively. “Are you awake?”   
  
Chloe groans and rolls over, accidentally displacing the electric blanket from Beca’s body.

 

“Yeah - yep - what’s up?”

 

“What did you mean earlier?”   
  
Chloe, groggy and not following, mumbles back: “Earlier what?”

 

Beca could let it go; a sleepy Chloe could forget, wouldn’t pursue this line of thought again in the morning. And Beca’s nerves are maybe going to short circuit her before this electric blanket does, but she powers through. 

 

“In the basement? When you - when you said you were my weirdo?” She silently curses the tremble in her voice.

 

Chloe rolls over and props herself up on her elbow. Hovering over Beca, disheveled and warm with sleep, she looks more perfect and magical than any of the decorations or snow she’s seen this trip. 

 

“I’m your weirdo, and you’re mine,” Chloe whispers, her warm breath ghosting sweetly over Beca’s face. 

 

There’s that intense stare Beca tried to escape in the basement. It cuts through Beca and makes the nervousness rise again, making her heart thump and her palms sweat. It takes every fibre of her being to not shrink back into her pillow. 

 

Chloe’s half-lidded gaze drifts from Beca’s wide eyes to her lips, which she instinctively licks, her tongue darting out just for a second. The hitch in Chloe’s breath is all Beca needs. 

 

She starts to lean up and it’s all warm lips and soft kisses again, just like last week. She doesn’t know who bites first, whose tongue flicks out to soothe the mark, who moans first. It doesn’t matter, not as long as  _ Chloe Beale _ has her tongue in her mouth. 

 

When Chloe pulls away, Beca groans at the loss. She tangles her fingers in soft red hair when Chloe speaks again.

 

“Hey weirdo, you wanna go out sometime and discuss this further?”

 

Beca is pleased to hear the rasp in Chloe’s voice, knowing she’s affected too. 

 

She answers Chloe with a lingering kiss pressed to her lips, another one to her cheek as Chloe settles comfortably against Beca’s chest and hooks her right leg over Beca’s.

 

“Good,” Chloe whispers. “Now, sleep.”

 

Soon enough, she’s snoring softly into Beca’s neck. Beca prays her thundering heartbeat won’t wake Chloe. 

 

\---

 

The next morning, a thick blanket of fresh snow covers the ground outside, even obscuring parts of the windows when the wind blew overnight and built up layers of it. 

 

So the next morning, there is obviously a snowball fight.

 

Amy is haphazardly constructing a low wall by pushing snow into a giant mound to prepare. Beca is absently standing off to Amy’s side, trying to catch snowflakes on her tongue, leaning to and fro. She looks so delighted when she manages to catch one that it makes Chloe’s heart instantly swell with affection. 

 

There’s a pang in her chest at the prospect of interrupting Beca’s focus, but Chloe has to shout her instructions for all the Bellas to hear.

 

“FIFTEEN MINUTES TO BUILD AMMO AND BARRICADES, THEN A FIFTEEN MINUTE MATCH.” 

 

Beca was still swaying slightly to catch snowflakes with her tongue hanging out, but she closes her mouth quickly and listens to Chloe like the diligent co-captain she is. It’s quite comical and rather sweet and endearingly distracting, but Chloe powers on.

 

“LAST BELLA STANDING WINS!”

 

Chloe locks eyes with Beca, notices the pink in her cheeks; whether from the cold or the blush at being caught, she doesn’t know. Chloe pauses before yelling out her addendum to the rules.

 

“AND FIRST ONE OUT HAS TO TAKE ME INTO TOWN AND BUY ME HOT CHOCOLATE.” 

 

Beca stumbles and puts her foot right through the shaky snow wall Amy had been building, ignoring her holler and vowing to be the first to get beaned in the face by Chloe Beale. She will buy her that hot chocolate. And she already knows she’ll be buying all future hot chocolates, forever.

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Pitchmas, everyone!


End file.
